


Clock Tower

by alexme7_7



Series: Spider-Man AU [3]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Blood and Injury, Fire, Gen, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 15:12:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11603223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexme7_7/pseuds/alexme7_7
Summary: "Maybe Michael really was a magnet for trouble."Jeremy goes on a risky rescue mission.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of That Scene from The Amazing Spider-Man 2

Maybe Michael really was a magnet for trouble. Green Goblin had decided to pick up Michael as bait for him and now he was hanging inside a clock tower by one of Jeremy’s webs, looking far too chill for Jeremy’s liking, like he had full faith in Spider-Man. He looked more worried for Jeremy than anything, and it made his stomach turn. 

Fire crackled below them, at the base of the tower. One of Goblin’s stray bombs had set the brittle old building off. Jeremy guessed he should have just been glad that it hadn’t taken the entire building with it, yet. But, smoke was slowly filling the tower, Michael was dangling over a 200ft drop, and it had just been a really long day for Spider-Man.

Michael had been falling, pushed off the ledge in some insane power trip of the Green Goblin’s, and then almost taken out by one of his freaky bomb things. Jeremy had barely gotten to him in time, swinging into the tower just to see his best friend pushed, and he tried to push out of his mind what would have happened if he was one second slower. 

Before he could make sure Michael was alright, before he could get his bearings at all, he was thrown into the clock tower wall by a raging Green Goblin. He could barely make out what the disfigured villain was yelling. The old tower creaked and groaned against the weight of him being pinned to the inside of the tower. His head was spinning from the impact. The smoke was rising and he could feel it burning his lungs, on top of the pressure of strong arms pushing into him, he could barely breath. His shoulder was still bleeding and he ached from head to toe. He didn’t want to fight anymore. 

“Jeremy!” That voice broke through his haze in a way no other could. He bucked against his opponent and looked down to see Michael, slowly slipping down the thread. 

His heart skipped a beat and he kicked out wildly, managing to slip out of the villain’s grasp. He lunged forward as the tower seemed to quake around him. Gears clanked and groaned in his ear, fire crackled below him, but he shot forward.

His descent was cut short by Green Goblin desperately slamming into him. Jeremy crashed into a large gear, his foot catching between two, leaving him hanging upside-down. He threw out another web and caught Michael just as he reached the end. The fire had risen, now visibly climbing below them.

“Michael,” Jeremy breathed, too quiet for the other to hear it, more of a silent prayer of thanks than anything else.

Michael looked back up at him, his eyes were wide with fear as he screamed something at Jeremy. Jeremy looked back a second too late and saw the clock tower gears give out above him. Green Goblin fell to the side with a triumphant smile, collapsing on a platform beside Jeremy.

Jeremy looked back to Michael again, metal was raining down around him, pieces just missing him. Suddenly, he felt himself slip. Panicked, he moved to secure himself, shooting out a line to the ceiling. The building continued to shake around them and Jeremy knew that he had to get Michael out of there.

Then he heard a line snap. Not just a stray clock tower cable. The distinctive twang of his webbing. His heart lurched and he looked down.

_Michael._

Michael was falling. He was falling like another piece of the clock tower. His mouth opened in surprise, a silent scream, his eyes desperate and frightened, his arms outstretched for Jeremy.

Jeremy fired a line after him. He was too far away, it wouldn’t catch. He dove forward, feeling metal pelt at his body, his lungs now aching desperately. He shot another line and clung to a stray broken pipe.  Gears, metal, wood, fell around him, Michael was obscured from his view as he fell. He was yelling. Michael probably was too. He couldn’t hear anything except his own messy internal monologue.

_Oh God. Oh fuck. Michael. Michael. Michael. Not Michael. No no no nononononononono-_

Michael disappeared into the clouding smoke and dancing flames.

The line pulled tight.

Jeremy couldn’t think straight. Hurriedly, he secured the line and scrambled down after Michael.

He went as fast as he could, simultaneously too fast and not fast enough. Jeremy was terrified of what he would find. The smoke cleared and he was about ten feet above Michael. Michael.

He hung limply from one arm, just above the flames. Dangerously close to the flames. The smoke, though rising, was thick and pluming around them. The webbing clung to Michael’s wrist and he swung slightly. His head hung against his chest and his nose was bloody and dripping, making a distressed noise escaped Jeremy’s mouth.

A loud crack from above sprang Jeremy into action again. His heart was in his throat and Michael wasn’t moving. His red hoodie was incredibly dirty and his glasses had fallen off. Jeremy bit back a sob as he clung to Michael’s limp form, he could hear a heartbeat. It was delicate, his pulse was far too weak, but it was all Jeremy needed in that moment. He wrapped an arm around Michael, severing the web that had saved his life, and pulled them up the tower, looking for the nearest window or hole.

The climb was agonizingly slow, but Jeremy was beginning to feel the full extent of his injuries and the thick smoke of the tower fire. Creaks and groans and crackling fire filled up the otherwise eerily quiet tower. Absently, he wondered where Green Goblin had gone.

He could die in the fire for all Jeremy cared.

Jeremy had bigger concerns right now. Shakily, he came to a boarded-up window. He gently, hesitantly laid Michael at his feet before prying off the boards. Fresh air flowed in and smoke rushed out of the new opening. Jeremy could feel the structure weakening; his spider sense was practically screaming at him.

The sirens approaching sounded like an angelic choir, which was a first. Police would be on scene and Jeremy tended to avoid them. But with police would come medics, and Michael needed them. He could hear himself wheezing. He could hear Michael’s heartbeat.

With a groan, he hoisted Michael on to his back and webbed his way down the building as quickly as he could. His feet touched down and his knees gave out momentarily. But the building moaned again and it stirred Jeremy back up, pulling Michael further away from the building.

He let himself fall back with a huff and pulled his best friend into his lap, against his chest, clutching at him. He could feel the tears pooling behind the mask but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Absently, he stroked at Michael hair, rocking back and forth. Michael’s head sagged against Jeremy’s shoulder and Jeremy pulled tighter.

He couldn’t do anything else. He was too exhausted. All he could do in that moment was hold Michael, unconscious but mercifully alive Michael, listen to his shallow breathing, hear his heart beating, and wait for help to arrive.


	2. Chapter 2

Jeremy shifted nervously in the hospital chair, wincing as it squeaked under his small movement. The room was far too small and way too quiet and it was making everything worse. Jeremy was naturally full of anxious energy, but this was almost unbearable.

With every beep of the machine, Jeremy winced. He had no choice but to face the consequences head-on. He had been sitting there for hours, too afraid to leave, too on-edge to focus on anything else. He’d become familiar with the patterns that the nurses and doctors keep and he had begun to hate lighthouses for the simple reason that a painting of one hung on the wall in the room, looking far too cheery.

It had been 24 hours since Michael had been saved from the clock tower.

Michael had begun to stir as the ambulance pulled up, mumbling indistinctly and tearing up, most likely because of the arm that Jeremy had managed to web as he fell. The paramedics were at their side suddenly and Jeremy was carefully, gently, pried away from his best friend. Thankfully, no one commented on the fact that they had found Spider-Man cradling a young man outside of a burning clock tower. He had waved off their offers to patch him up, despite his aches and the blood still sluggishly running down his arm. The police had so many questions and before he could successfully shrug them off with vague answers, the ambulance had pulled away.

He swung himself home in the early hours of the morning, only managing to pull his suit down half way before he collapsed into bed. He needed to check on Michael. He needed to make sure Michael was okay.  _What if Michael wasn’t okay?_

But exhaustion claimed him before he could sit back up.

He was woken at five in the morning with a start. A fog of a nightmare he couldn’t quite remember fading into the recesses of his mind. Sweat beaded on his face, blood and soot still peppering his body, an ache lingered in his neck.

He then proceeded to almost fall off his bed in a panic.

_Michael._

He checked his phone. No new texts or missed calls.

It might look suspicious if he just showed up at the hospital without anyone telling him Michael was there.

So, he showered and tried to fix himself up to be as presentable as possible. No facial wounds helped, but the sleep-deprived purple-blue under his eyes was something even spider powers couldn’t fix.

He just sat on the edge of his bed, leg bouncing, eyes glued to his phone for hours. The news was filled with Spider-Man stories, but there was only so much of that he could take in before it sent him into a quiet panic. Eventually, he closed the news tabs and opened his texts from Michael, re-reading old conversations between them, finding comfort in the familiar and normal.

His stomach was in knots. Michael could be dying for all he knew.

_Maybe he should just go to the hospital? It's Michael. Michael is always worth the risk._

He was grateful when his phone rang twenty minutes later, a tired Mrs. Mell on the other line, telling him information he was already far too aware of. Michael would be okay, she assured him. He gave her no room to argue when he told her he would be right over.

Jeremy had ended up staying longer than Michael’s own parents, who had been there for most of the previous night. Michael had apparently regained consciousness a few hours before Jeremy showed up, coughing and in a blind panic, but had barely made a move or sound since.

He had somehow managed to worm his way into being allowed to stay overnight; it was now 1am and Jeremy was trying not to lose his mind in the squeaky chair beside his unconscious best friend.

Michael would be okay. He would be fine. The doctors, nurses, Michael’s family, they all assured him he would be completely okay. Minor surgery for his shoulder and some weeks in a cast and sling, and he would be healed. He had superficial wounds on his face, and a minor concussion. Nothing to worry about, apparently. Still, Jeremy couldn’t help but look at his sleeping friend and be hit with guilt and worry. He wouldn’t have been in that situation if it wasn’t for Jeremy after all.

His eyes were heavy, head aching, he could almost fall asleep in the world’s most uncomfortable chair. But the moment he heard movement from the bed beside him, everything that wasn’t Michael fell away.

At first, he thought he might have imagined it. But then Michael’s breath caught and he sighed lightly, and Jeremy was at the edge of his chair, pushing hair out of his eyes with one hand and grabbing at Michael’s hand with the other.

Michael coughed lightly and his head tossed.

“Michael?”

Michael’s head turned back towards him and his eyes fluttered open.

“Jere?” Michael croaked, brow furrowing, eyes blinking. He tried moving his right arm, wincing at the slight movement. Jeremy could hear his breath pick up as he started to struggle more, “What-?

“Michael, Mich- hey,” Jeremy stood suddenly, putting his hands gently on the other boy’s shoulders, trying to keep him from sitting up and possibly injuring himself further.

“What th’ heck?” Michael slurred, throwing his good hand out blindly, quickly connecting with Jeremy’s oversized hoodie, his hand grasping at the fabric as his eyes started to clear, “Where am I?”

Jeremy’s hands backed away once he was sure that Michael wasn’t going to try sitting up again, and he detangled Michael’s hand from his hoodie, sitting back down at Michael’s side, holding Michael’s warm hand in his. His hesitation was picked up by Michael, weary as he was.

“Am I in a hospital?” He asked, but gave Jeremy no time to respond, “I’m in a hospital,” Michael confirmed looking around the room. His eyes widened as they fell back to Jeremy, “Are you okay?”

Jeremy let out a surprised laugh at Michael sincere question. Jeremy had super healing abilities, and Michael was the one in a hospital bed, and Michael still found reason to worry about him. It was weirdly comforting to know that Michael was still very much Michael. He could feel tears pricking at his eyes and ignored them, leaning forward and taking Michal’s hand in both of his.

“I’m fine, Michael,” Jeremy’s voice was low and thick, feeling relief and guilt wash over him anew.

“Why are you crying? Michael mumbled, moving his head against the pillow in an attempt to get a better view of his friend.

Jeremy wiped at his eyes, letting himself smile, “Because I’m glad you’re okay, dude.”

“Of course, I’m ‘kay” Michael smiled back, letting his eyes close, “I’m Superman,”

“Yeah, buddy, you’re Superman,” Jeremy giggled.

The two lapsed back into silence and Jeremy assumed Michael had fallen back asleep. He let his shoulders hunch and squeezed Michael’s hand a bit tighter.

Michael cracked one eye open, frowning, “Hey,  _no_.”

“What?”

“Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Blame yourself, dummy,”

“But if I had just- “

“Jeremy,” Michael voice was soft, but firm, “Please. I don’t blame you. We’ll talk later?”

“Of course,”

“Good,” Michael yawned, “You should sleep,” he added, letting himself slowly drop back into sleep.

Jeremy stared at his best friend for a long time, holding his hand and just listening to the soft sounds of breathing. Michael was alive. That was all that mattered for now. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This has been posted on tumblr for a long while but I thought I'd share more of this au with a wider audience.  
> Let me know what you thought in comments, or hit me up on tumblr at slaygoldponyboy.


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